Bohner FU to WWI Last Veteran

In classic double speak that politicians have to practice in the mirror to keep their job, Speaker of the House John Bohner screwed up. The last surviving veteran of World War One, aka WWI, was forsaken a memorial tribute at the capitol rotunda on his passing by the GOP head honcho in charge. The man was 110 years old, he was the last doughboy! This was courtesy of the military pro and we love our veteran’s political party Speaker of the House John Bohner. I’m sure he was thinking out of his ass when he blocked a wake at the capitol rotunda for the LAST VETERAN of WWI.

Two West Virginia senators and a documentary filmmaker are expressing their dismay after House Speaker John Boehner (R-Ohio) blocked a movement to allow Frank Buckles' body to lay repose in the Capitol Rotunda.

Buckles, the last living American World War I veteran, died in West Virginia at the age of 110 last week. Shortly after his death, Sens. Jay Rockefeller and Joe Manchin III released statements urging Boehner to reconsider.

"My resolution is simple. It would have provided a fitting tribute to Frank Buckles – the nation's last Doughboy," Rockefeller said in a statement posted to his Web site. "Surely, Speaker Boehner can agree that the Congress should pause for a moment to pay its respects to Mr. Buckles and all our World War I veterans." – New York Daily News

Frank Buckles did nothing to the Democrats or the Republicans other than be the last man out of this world that served his country in World War One. And this is something that Bonehead has a problem with? WTF is wrong with him and the rest of the GOP? Apparently, they only support people in uniform while you are actually in the line of fire. Guns, bullets, and God bless our troops. After that their seems to be a middle finger that keeps coming up over and over again when it comes to veterans.

Screw the Republicans if they think that a 110 year old man that was the last surviving man from WWI does not deserve a national tribute. Plant the old geezer at Arlington is what Bohner said. We’ll send a bugler that will put down a boom box, hit the play button and hold a fake bugle to his lips.

Bullshit doesn’t always come from the back end of a bull. Sometimes it is right in front of you and we call him the Speaker of the house.

Papamoka

CURRAHEE'S 3 MILES UP, 3 MILES DOWN; THOUGHTS OF VETERANS' DAY

BY MICHAEL LINN JONES



I'm sure most everyone who writes of things political undergoes a form of what I call blankness. It's not any form of "writer's block." It's more of a reaction to an accumulation of evidence that the political process has become so defunct, so corrupt, so self-loving that one can reach a point of asking, "What does it all matter, anyway?"

Of course it doesn't take but a day or two of looking at news stories to put fire in the gut, and a writer must walk that tightrope of venting their spleen without offending readers with the expletive language our "leaders" deserve.

A couple of times a year, though, I take a mental respite to dwell on other subjects that may not be exactly pleasant, but at least can leave you with a good feeling inside. Such diversions are necessary for a balance; we get to contemplate a different time, with different people who didn't talk all that much but definitely walked the walk.

A recent visit to Toccoa, Georgia brought home to me several things that frankly I hadn't thought of before. That always happens when visiting places with a history. You go seeking one thing and come away with a lot more than you intended.

Toccoa is a small town in the northeastern part of the Peach State. In the downtown area is the Stephens County History Museum and the Currahee Military Museum. I went there because after watching the "Band of Brothers" series I wanted to see what was left in place there from the 1940's.



The museum is housed in the former train depot. It was at this spot that all the troops arrived by train, and also where they departed. The building was added on to in order to house the quantity of material available to the museum. Within the museum are the stables used for housing enlisted men in Aldbourne, England both prior to and after D-Day.

There is much in the museum pertaining to the "Band of Brothers" but also many individuals' items from around the country. One is quickly reminded that Easy Company of the 506th Parachute Regiment was but one of many, although now the most famous.

Seven or eight miles away is the site of the original Camp Currahee. Today the land is owned by the Milliken Company. The only remaining structure is the chow hall from the 1940's. Viewers might recall the scene where the sadistic Capt. Sobel ordered spaghetti for the men and then announced they were climbing Mt. Currahee immediately.

The road itself to the top of Currahee is still there. It's unpaved, and a fairly steep drive. At my age I was fatigued just by the DRIVE up there, and can only imagine....even with youth and health on your side....how daunting a chore it was to run those 3 miles up the mountain and the 3 miles back down.

Toccoa/Currahee is well worth the visit. The staff at the museum were as nice, polite, and helpful as could be.

As I left the area I thought about what I'd seen. On Veterans' Day we are supposed to remember veterans...that seems simple enough. World War II is the main focal point for such remembrance, but with the greatest respect not the only conflict. We all KNOW that but other wars don't hold the imagination like WWII.

And that's a shame, because even the Currahee Military Museum exposes patrons to items that date back further than the 1940's. There are World War I exhibits, as well as items from the Civil War, to mention a few.

It is perhaps proper that we focus on those who fought, and died, in combat. But, we don't let the light shine very brightly on the other people. I'm speaking of the service troops...the men who served even if not in combat. Or the ferry pilots who flew aircraft across the Atlantic whatever the weather...and many of those were women.

I extend my purview of Veterans' Day to those who served not in uniform at all, but did their duty....and still do. They are the invisible veterans...the wives and husbands, the fathers and mothers of those in the armed services who wait...and pray. Many times their prayers were not answered, but they carried on their lives anyway.

The spirit of those young men who ran up and down Currahee in the early 1940's can be found a century before, and a century after. Although as wars go Korea and Vietnam don't hold the aura of World War II, the men who fought and died in those places were no different than the men of Shiloh or the men and women of Baghdad.

Studying veterans...their actions, their motives, their way of thinking....is as fine an antidote to the grinding frustration of politics. We have to have faith in something earthly, a belief that people are at their core decent and good. Much evidence today indicates otherwise, and that is where one must be careful in discerning between fictional heroes and real-life ones.

Everyone who has served is human, with frailties and faults. But frankly, if I were asked to choose which gift is greater....a grant for billions from Washington, or the blood of a soldier who bought me and my heirs a little time to make the world right.....I'd have no hesitation in embracing the latter.

It's all well and good to thank veterans each year. It's wonderful and I applaud anyone who does.

All I ask is that you consider carefully what you're thanking them FOR.
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Cross-posted at Michael Linn Jones.com
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Kindly featured at MemeOrandum

Memorial Day With A TWIST

Contributed by Michael Linn Jones

About two hours drive north of Paris there is a small village; la Neuviille-Houssett. Not far from this village is a farm, dissected by a small lane. This is old country, originally civilized by the Romans and witness to centuries of the horror of warfare. Across the lane from this farm is a Cross, with a small retaining wall holding a bronze plaque.

The monument, standing about 15 feet high, looks out upon a rising field, facing a hillock where on a cloudy night in 1944, an American bomber crashed at nightfall. The aircraft split in half, and all the crew were ejected. Local men dragged the men away from the flames. They were carried to the farmhouse. Three men survived, and the other four died. One was a young man from West Virginia. He died on a kitchen table, with Last Rites being read by a local priest. Aware of the fact that the dying man was Protestant, this priest did not care; a man of God performed his duty. This particular priest turned out to be the kind of man who did a lot of things not expected of him.

The West Virginian in question was the bomber's tailgunner, a SSgt. Wetzel Kimball. Several years before he had fallen in love with a girl from Jackson, Tennessee named Camille Owen. Camille had to accept the loss of her husband, a common experience in those days.

The village priest, Father Heroux, dedicated himself to bringing closure to the families of the dead airmen. In 1946 Fr. Heroux raised the funds necessary to erect the original Cross, at the same site where it stands today. He travelled to the U.S. after the war and met Camilee and other family members of the crew.

In 1948 Camillle opted to have her husband's remains returned to the United States from his resting place at Epinal in France. He was finally laid to rest in Hollywood Cemetery in Jackson, Tennessee.

In 2001, the local people of la Neuville-Houssett learned the details of the old Cross along the farm lane. Without government involvement or support, a huge amount of money was raised, and the result is what you see in the photograph. It is, if I may say so, as much a testimony to the gratitude and good hearts of good people as it is a remembrance of dead soldiers.

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Near the southern border of the Netherlands is a small town named Margraten. Nearby is an American cemetery from World War II. Please watch this short video; it'll only take a moment of your time. It's important that you do so because within the clip is a short mention of the fact that the people of that area regularly visit the graves of the 8,000 men buried there.

What the video does not show is that following World War II, and also 9/11/2001, a system of "adopting" American graves took place. These people waited their turn to have "their" American to lay flowers upon at every American holiday, such as the 4th of July, Thanksgiving, and so on. They WAITED to have the opportunity to express their thanks to men who died long before many of them were even born.

Camille Kimball never remarried. She died a widow in 2003. After 59 years, she and her husband were finally reunited at the Hollywood Cemetery in Jackson. The love of one person for another can be most powerful, and in this case stretched for decades.
The story of the Kimballs is an interesting and poignant one. But you don't need to dwell upon them. In any city or town in this country there are cemeteries, and in each of them lies some man or woman who served us up gifts that we love but take for granted.

Sad to say, yet I'm proud to say, certain human beings in France and the Netherlands do not take these gifts for granted. It is part of their tradition that whatever frustrations they may feel in trying to figure out Americans, their gratitude is more than just talk. They walk their walk and, as in the case of Margraten, compete to do so.

Perhaps without knowing it, they are simply responding to the request of a dying Captain Miller in "Saving Private Ryan." He said, "Earn this. Earn this day."

If people an ocean away can do this, why cannot we start a similar tradition? On this Memorial Day, before you go off to your well-deserved rest or fun, take a moment to do something you've probably never thought of doing. Pick up some flowers...anywhere, it doesn't matter. Find the grave of a veteran and do no more than say "thanks."

You'll have a whole year to think about what you've done to earn that gift.

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